


Older Men Of Harry Potter x Readers

by casstayinmyass



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (most of the time), Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mentor Severus Snape, Older Man/Younger Woman, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Protective Remus Lupin, Reader-Insert, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Smut, Student Reader, Werewolf Remus Lupin, professor/student
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 10:38:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16911372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Professor Lupin, Sirius Black, Professor Snape, and Lucius Malfoy imagines, including reader. They are HP canon age in this, not marauders era.





	1. Never Let Me Go (Remus Lupin x Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a tumblr dump of all my hp fics! Most will be smutty, but some are just fluff. Please no requests on here, if you would like to request, you can do so on my tumblr @mcwerewolfblack!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut/Angst.

The moon is a sliver away from being full. Severus had to take over your husband’s class today, as Remus had been too unwell to get out of bed. Back in school, he had always tried his hardest to attend classes the days before and after his change, but as he grew older, he realized that this was simply not realistic, as it would only belabour his healing process. 

You had already discussed the cycle and the designated procedures with Snape, the only other person at Hogwarts who could do anything to help. He was reluctant to be the substitute, but eventually gave in for your sake. He claimed that Remus had better be grateful for him covering up and explaining to all the concerned students why Professor Lupin needed a cane once every month. You assured him you were both very grateful, and he left it alone.

You stare up at the moon, hearing the howl of a wolf far off in the Dark Forest. Even after all these years, you still wondered how Remus felt when he heard that sound. Drawing you out of your thoughts, you feel your husband shift in bed, and notice his restlessness. The proximity to the full moon means he’s currently a mess– even more so, arguably, than afterward.

“(y/n)…” he whispers, and turns his head. You realize his face is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and your heart aches.

The moon cycle is complicated for your husband, but you’ve had a long time to get used to it, and now, you recognize the signs. The week leading up to a full one, Remus is in a very hard stage, where he feels both stimulated and as if every bone in his body is crushing together.

“I’m here,” you whisper back, careful not to speak too loudly. His hand finds yours, and he takes a gasp of air as his eyes flutter shut. You wish you could do something… but you can only stay with him, and comfort him when he needs you.

“I could certainly use some chocolate right now,” he tries to joke, but winces. You chuckle a little.

“I’m afraid your teeth would practically snap if you tried to consume anything tougher than lemon sherbets right now, love.”

He laughs, and presses his head against your shoulder. “Mm, even chewing sugar like that would be painful.“ He shifts again. "Ah… I’m…” he tries to say, face pained and teeth biting hard on his bottom lip. You understand.

“Do you need help with it, Remus?”

Sometimes he’ll say no, not wanting to bother you… sometimes he’ll say yes. He seems too restless to say no tonight, so you lean forward tentatively, placing your lips on his. He reciprocates, deepening the kiss until it’s rough, both of your breath mingling between you two. He finally nods, and you reach down slowly, taking him in hand. He’s painfully hard. When the moon approaches, the wolf is aching to let the animalistic urges free when you’re around. Remus had insisted it wasn’t your presence that caused him pain, but you knew it didn’t exactly make it easier. 

You both learned the hard way once that Remus’ human side couldn’t tolerate what the wolf wanted during this stage. He once burst six blood vessels in his fingers trying to make love to you when you were both in your early twenties and this happened, so you’ve since learned better ways to appease the wolf as best you can while keeping Remus as comfortable as possible.

Swiping your thumb over the already wet head of his cock, you slick his length, and begin to stroke, up and down, twist, repeat, until he’s moaning into your shoulder.

“You’re wonderful… just wonderful, darling…” he grits out, and you kiss his forehead, trying to ignore your own arousal at the sight of him all worked up. His moans are high and breathy, with the occasional whimper of pain– Remus hates how hungry he gets for your touch nearest the moon, but you assure him it’s no bother to you to touch your husband as often as he wants.

Soon, you realize it’s no use to ignore your own arousal, and begin to grind yourself against the bed as you take care of Remus’ little problem.

Well… perhaps not so little, you smirk. Your husband is significantly above average, if you do say so yourself. Remus raises an eyebrow.

“And just what… are you… smirking about, darling?” he teases with the cheekiest grin he can manage, and you giggle.

“How large my husband is.”

You know praise and dirty talk turn him on, and he groans, thrusting into your fist.

“T-tell me…”

“Remus, you’re so big,” you whisper in his ear, “All I think about when I pass you in your classroom is letting you have your way with me in the broom closet, spanking me and telling me what a bad girl I am.”

“You are… such a naughty girl,” he plays along, panting now with his eyes closed.

“And oh, Remus, sometimes I’ll be alone in my classroom… and I’ll remember that you’re not far away, and I’ll think of you bending me over the desk and eating me out.”

“Oh (y/n)…” Remus breathes, cock throbbing.

“Do I taste good?”

“So lovely… oh…”

“Better than your beloved chocolate?”

He snorts. “I’d trade a million bars from Honeydukes just to taste you once, my love.”

“Remus,” you gasp at that comment, grinding your throbbing heat against the mattress, and he looks down, realizing what you’re doing.

“Cheeky girl,” he smiles, wincing a little, and you feel his hand snake down to take over.

“No,” you murmur quickly, “When you’re better. Remember last time?”

His face suddey changes, and he thinks for a moment. “Yes… blood vessels, hm…”

You both share a giggle, and Remus moans again, patting your arm.

“(y/n), I’m close.”

“Good,” you breathe, and stroke him a little faster. Both your moans fill up the chambers in the west tower of the castle, and you’re grateful for the charm you put on the door in case Remus has a loud nightmare– he’s awakened more than one of the paintings in the hall before.

“I’m… oh,” he pants, and suddenly, you feel the hot burst of cum run over your knuckles as your husband clutches his pillow with one hand and your arm with the other. Watching his moment of release hit him, messy hair plastered to his forehead, pushes you over as well, and you come hard against the bed, rocking your hips and moaning his name. Now that he’s had some relief, you feel him nuzzle his tired body into your shoulder a little more, and you play with his hair.

“Better?”

He nods. “Thank you, my dear.”

You lean down to press a kiss to his head. “I told you not to thank me. I do it out of love.”

“What?” Remus smiles bashfully, “Wrap me up in a bundle of blankets when I should be teaching the bright young minds of the next wizarding generation, or jerk me off in the small hours of the night to quiet the great murderous beast inside me?”

You place your head atop his. “Well, when you put it that way, you sound like a right horror,” you laugh, and he places a shaky, offended hand on his chest.

“Are you regretting the past 17 years already?”

“Perhaps I should have dated Sirius after all,” you continue to tease.

“And spend your nights coughing up hairballs? Sounds absolutely delightful.”

You slap his arm lightly, and you both lay together, chests rising and falling as you listen to the quiet sounds of the Great Lake outside, or the faint musings of a ghost that had taken a liking to your hallway.

“Mm, Remus Lupin… I wouldn’t trade our life together for the world.” After a couple of seconds of silence, you look down to find that your husband has fallen asleep on your shoulder, features peaceful at last. You smile, tug the blanket up a little more, hold Remus closer to you, and look back up at the moon.


	2. Caught (Remus Lupin x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut.

Remus has your hands pinned above your head, covering you with his body as he thrusts into you. You struggle against the hold, but to your delight, you can’t get anywhere, his strength unparalleled by your smaller body.

“Professor… mmm, yes!”

“Ahh, that’s brilliant darling, so good for me, that’s just wonderful, yes…” The bed creaks underneath the two of you, Remus’ hard, fast thrusts making the rickety old thing groan and protest.

“Remus!”

You gasp out his name as you come, clutching onto his back. Your name falls from his lips as well, the DADA prof pressing soft kisses to your chest and neck as you come down and he chases his climax.

You hear a soft knocking at the door to his private chambers. Lupin is about to call out to whoever it was to wait, but his sudden orgasm renders him speechless, garnering another knock.

“C-coming…” he eventually wheezes out, hips stuttering as his cum leaks out of you, and you giggle, leaning up to bite his ear.

“Think you just did, love.”

He chuckles, going in for another kiss, but his name is called.

“Professor Lupin? Are you in there?”

It’s Professor McGonagall. 

Remus quickly clears his throat. “Just one moment! I’m just… getting… my… housecoat on…” He jumps out of bed naked, and you smirk.

“You’ve got a sexy arse!” you hiss, mimicking a silent wolf whistle.

“That,” Remus points at you, eyebrows raised, “Is inappropriate.”

You giggle into your hand, and hide under his huge four poster bed with a big fluffy blanket around your naked shoulders. Remus composes himself, fixes his hair, takes a deep breath, and opens the door. 

“Minerva." 

"Good evening, professor,” McGonagall says, apology in her tone, “I deeply regret disturbing you at this hour, but… I am in desperate need of your help.”

Remus stuffs his hands in his pockets. “What seems to be the matter?”

“There’s a student out of bed. Professor Snape is busy dealing with Potter being found in the library, and he can’t very well deal with this one at the same time.”

“I see. And… who is this disobedient student?” Remus asks, playfulness already in his tone. You both know the answer.

“She’s a seventh year (y/house). Kind soul, very bright…”

“Ah yes. (y/n) (y/l/n). She’s one of my best.” Remus’ voice raises intentionally at that one, and you smile under the bed at the compliment.

“One of mine too,” McGonagall nods, “She’s normally such a model student. I have not the faintest idea as to why she’s out of bed so late.”

“Nor do I, but I’m certain it’s a good reason.” You can just hear his smirk, and his smugness makes your breath hitch and your pussy ache for another rough round.

“Mm. You don’t think…” Minerva suddenly looks troubled.

“…What?” Remus frowns, inclining his head.

“You don’t think she was canoodling with Mr. Potter in the library, and Severus has found them both… eh…?”

“What an idea,” Remus smiles broadly, “They just might be.” You stifle a giggle under the bed. You and Harry? Never– you didn’t want to steal Cedric’s boyfriend.

“You know, Mr. Potter does go after the smart ones,” McGonagall continues. Remus cocks his head, leaning against his door frame.

“As I recall hearing from the boy himself, Mr. Potter is in a relationship with Cedric Diggory, isn’t he? That lad’s not the brightest pumpkin in the patch, though he makes up for it in heart.”

“He is a Hufflepuff,” McGonagall murmurs under her breath, “But a good one, too. About time Potter had a good influence. I was beginning to worry he would end up with Draco Malfoy.”

“Good lord, let’s hope not,” Remus chuckles, “That would be the power couple of armageddon.” He sighs, patting the door frame. “Very well then. Better be off on the hunt." 

McGonagall puts a hand on Remus’ arm. "Thank you, Remus.”

“Oh, anything for my favourite professor.”

Once he says goodbye, Remus turns casually on his heel, hands still in his pockets as he whistles to himself. “You can come out now, Miss (y/l/n).” You scramble out, and Remus looks you over. “ _Gorgeous_.”

You snort, realizing you’re still naked, and grab your school robes. “Are you ogling me, sir?” you ask, taking false offence, and he considers this.

“I think so, yes.”

“Stop it this instant,” you chastise, “That gaze is what got us into trouble in the first place. Hermione almost found us out in the middle of class, you looking at me like a hungry beast!” You get your robes on, and string your tie around your neck, letting it fall undone between your breasts. Remus eyes what he can see of them under your uniform with an enamoured gaze. You had come here directly from class after another “detention” that had lasted far into the night, so you hadn’t had time to change. 

He suddenly puts his hands on your shoulders, and sits you back down on the edge of the bed, kneeling between your legs. He’s not finished with you quite yet.

“May I?" 

Glancing up at you tentatively, he asks, and you nod in silent permission. He brushes the robes back off your shoulders for just a moment, the smooth skin of his thumb barely grazing your collarbone. You shiver, and his eyes flicker up to you. You can see the mischief in them, but you can also see the honesty. Remus isn’t a very open man in general, but he had shared a lot more than his body with you. At the beginning of the year, you had just been determined to have some fun in your last year with whatever teacher responded the fastest to your flirtations– "go out with a bang” as Fred and George put it– but once things clicked with Remus, you had found something you weren’t expecting.

“Beautiful,” he praises against your chest, and your fingers find their way to the back of his neck, carding gently up and down and raising the hair there, and a few scars from last week’s full moon. You knew his secret. You were the only student who did, and you would take it to the grave with you.

His eyes close, and you arch your back as he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking slowly. Your hair falls back, and you let out a soft, strangled moan as his tongue plays with your breast, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin to light your body up. He moves on to the next one, and as he’s sucking gently and pressing kisses between your breasts, his fingers trace your stomach down to your pussy, which is now clenching to be filled again, clit throbbing from the stimulation.

You exhale, and Remus parts your folds, inserting two long fingers in slowly and gently curving them upward.

“Ah,” you fall forward, pushing your breasts further into his face, and he inhales sharply, drawing out his fingers and pumping them back in. He nibbles your left breast before pressing kisses down to where his fingers are, and you feel his tongue begin to circle your bud. Your fingers thread through his hair, and he continues to stimulate you, fingering you and licking until your whole body shudders, over-sensitive from your first orgasm as this one rocks through you. Remus smirks up at you, and you kiss his cheek.

“Thank you." 

Remus stands, offering his hand to you to stand as well as you shrug your robes back on, for good this time.

"My pleasure. Well then– better scurry off to bed,” he finally whispers conspiratorially, “Don’t want me to find you violating curfew.”

“What would you do if you did?” you tease.

“I think we both know the answer to that.” With this, he opens a drawer, placing a square of chocolate between your open lips. “Eat that, it’ll help you sleep better.” He kisses your lips, and then your forehead. “Goodnight, my dear.”

As you smile and hurry off down the dark hall, you hear Remus mutter a Lumos and begin to “search” for you. 


	3. Welcome Feast (Remus Lupin x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut.

The candles floats above the great hall the same as they always had, as students file in and sit at their house tables. Memories fill you with pleasant nostalgia of your own days here at school.

Dumbledore stands at the front, opened with the beginning of his speech, then the chatter finally began to die down. 

“Welcome… to another year at Hogwarts!” he smiles, and another murmur ran through the crowd. Your husband leans in to your ear.

“Here we go.”

You grin. “Mm, I thought we’d escaped these frightfully dull speeches.”  

“He’s gotten better, he’s more enthusiastic now.”

Dumbledore extends his arms. “First, allow me to introduce some new members of the teaching staff. It is my pleasure to welcome back one of Hogwarts’ own alumni, Professor Lupin, as your Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher from last year.“ Everyone cheers, and you look at Remus in surprise.

"You never let on they liked you that much.”

Remus blushes. Your husband is a humble man.

Dumbledore goes on. “–And with him this year comes the lovely  _Mrs_. Lupin, also an alumni of this school, who will go by her maiden name to avoid confusion. I give you Mrs. (y/l/n), your temporary Charms professor while Professor Flitwick takes a much needed holiday." 

At their table, Ron turns to Harry. "Professor Lupin’s married?!” he whispers. 

“Apparently,” Harry replies, equally as surprised, and Hermione shushes them. 

“I think they make a smart looking couple." 

"You’re such a sap,” Ron mutters, and Hermione huffs at him as you and Remus share a kiss at the table, waving to everyone as Dumbledore gives an approving smile and nod. 

“ _Yuck_ ,” Harry and Ron grumble, and Hermione rolls her eyes. Up at the table as everyone claps, Remus leans into your ear again. 

“I told you they would love you.“ 

"They’re obligated to clap,” you smile, “They’ll be reprimanded if they don’t.”

“Ah, but who couldn’t love you? Just from the sight of your brilliant smile,” Remus presses a kiss to your cheek. “I remember when I first saw you. First year, across the classroom. You were a popular (y/house)… I, at the time, was quite a shy little Gryffindor if you remember, unlike my boisterous friends.” 

“How could I forget?” you smile.

“For the longest time, I always believed you agreed to go on that date with me simply out of sympathy." 

You blush, smirking. "Perhaps I did. But you were a handsome boy, and you offered me chocolate. A girl doesn’t simply turn down chocolate." 

"No? Not even for Lockhart, constantly vying for your affection?" 

You both turn to see the pompous Ravenclaw. He had been newly assigned to the position of Ancient Runes professor this year after regaining his memories over the holidays. He is currently blowing kisses your way, only to get distracted by his own reflection in his spoon. You and Remus look at one another, and shudder. 

"Now, if it was your friend Sirius asking, darling…” you go on, and you both laugh. 

“Oh Sirius, yes,” Remus chuckles, “You’d have to be mad to turn him down for me." You place your hand over his under the table. "Are you glad, then, that you agreed to see me?” Remus continues, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles.

“I haven’t regretted it once since our wedding day,” you smile earnestly. 

“Or night,“ he grins that rare boyish smile you love to see peek through his gentlemanly demeanor, "As I recall, you were moaning more than I do after a full moon.” He leans down from your ear to press a kiss to your earlobe. 

“You’re awfully handsy tonight,” you comment. He responds by nibbling your lobe. “Oh, do stop it, love… we’ll have plenty of time later for all that." 

"Problem is,” Remus sighs, leaning back and taking a sip of his drink, “Later is a little too far away for my taste." 

"What does that mean?” you ask, frowning, and he places a hand on your leg, inching his way up as the headmaster’s speech comes to a close. 

“We are all very glad to have you back for another new year. Enjoy the feast!” Dumbledore finally finishes, and your attention is once again directed back to Remus’ wandering hand. 

“What do you think you’re doing, professor?“ you ask playfully, knowing that mischievous glint in your husband’s eyes, and he gives an innocent shrug. 

"It’s been days… I just thought it would be fun to see how desperate you really are for me." 

"You wouldn’t dare,” you whisper. 

“Oh, you know I would,” he looks away casually, greeting a couple of students who waved at him. “Hello there, I’ll see you in my class, yes… welcome, welcome, I look forward to meeting you… Dean, lovely to see you again, yes…”

“Remus, I–”

You’re suddenly silenced by Remus flicking his wand under the table. You suddenly feel an essence build up under your teaching robes, just past your panties, warming you. It encircles your clit, ever so gently stroking it, and you lean against the table, gripping the wood. 

"Merlin’s bloody beard,” you breathe, and Remus smiles. As he begins to munch on his dinner as if nothing’s happening, you feel the essence he’s conjured begin to delve inside of you as well, stroking you and stretching your walls; it’s no substitute for Remus’ cock, but it’s the only somewhat appropriate alternative while you’re sitting at the professors table. 

He pecks your cheek in an otherwise amiable looking way, his mustache tickling you, and you gasp slightly, feeling your panties get wetter from the sound of his voice alone. “How are you getting on?” he whispers. 

“I’d much rather be getting off,” you moan softly, and Remus laughs. He watches you rock as inconspicuously as you can down against your chair, seeking more than what you’ve got in your panties at the moment. He continues to control how much you get with his wand under the table, and almost out of mercy lets you come, before Snape walks over. 

“(y/n), it has been many years. You’re looking very well." 

"Severus,” Remus says before you can answer, spoiling for a fight, “What possessed you to gain some manners and reacquaint yourself with my wife?" 

"I am far more polite than you will ever be, Lupin,” Snape scowls, and offers a hand to you. 

“S-Severus!” You try to remain calm, despite your desperation for an orgasm, “Sooo good to see you, my  _god_!” 

“Yes… are you… alright?“ Snape frowns. 

"Fine! Just a– oh, just a slight fever, felt it coming on this morning… hopefully it’s not dragon pox, so early on in the year. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?”

“I think it’s just you, darling,” Remus nods nonchalantly, and you glare at him before turning back to Snape. 

“Lovely to see you again too, Severus. Hope to see you around the halls, so we can catch up– ahh, please excuse me, I need some air.“ You quickly stand, and Remus stalls his wand, keeping a straight face as you walk past him. 

"Better go check on her,” he whispers, and Snape purses his lips.

“Of course.”  

Once your cheeky husband makes it out the doors of the great hall, you slam him against the wall, pressing your lips together. He breathes in, but his large hands find your back, keeping you against him as you grind your pelvis into his half-hard cock. 

“Fuck me,” you growl. 

“Not here,” he breathes, lips parted in awe. 

You sink to your knees. “Then here’s a taste of your own medicine.”

“If I’m not mistaken, it will be you who will be tasting my medicine, won’t it?” Remus muses, and you shut his stupid joking up by unzipping his pants. He groans as you pull his sizeable shaft out, stroking until he’s fully hard. Then you grip him from the base, lapping lightly at his balls before deep throating him and swallowing. You’re not playing games anymore. "Oh!“ he cries, but you slap his thigh lightly, keeping him quiet. If you’re caught, it would be both of you sacked, bags packed, out the door.

That’s what made it just as much fun as it was back in school.

You glance up through your eyelashes, watching how his mousy brown hair falls into his eyes as they flutter and close. His fingers thread through your hair as you continue to suck without mercy, and he begins to roll his hips into your mouth. After a moment of this, he remembers you haven’t come yet. Pulling out his wand from his back pocket again before he bloody well breaks it against the wall, he flicks it and tugs your hair so that you come hard. Your back arches and you make the sluttiest sound Remus has ever heard. 

"My god, what a beautiful noise,” he remarks, and you take him down one last time, swirling your tongue around his head before bobbing once more. Remus pants your name repeatedly as he shoots his load down your throat, you swallowing all of it and wiping your lips. 

“That’s what you get when you tease me at the dinner table, love,” you grin up at him, zipping his pants back up. He holds an arm down for you to take, and helps you up like a gentleman. 

“Then I suppose I must do it more often, hm?” he nuzzles your nose, still breathless, and you giggle, ending up with your lips against his and his back to the damned wall again. After a minute, he flips around so that your back is against the stone this time, his larger body trapping you there and slotting comfortably around your smaller frame. 

“My love for you knows no bounds,” he murmurs, kissing you again. 

“Gracious! Remus John Lupin! O-Or I should say,  _Professor_ Remus John Lupin! Just what do you think you are doing within these respectable halls? I might have expected something like this from you in your student years, or perhaps from your fellow constituents, but now as a professor, good heavens, I… oh, straighten yourself out!" 

You both turn, wide eyed, to see Professor McGonagall blowing her top. Feeling like a pair of horny students caught by the collars, you two part, fixing yourselves up again sheepishly. 

"Mrs. Lupin,” she says, lifting her chin, “An explanation, if you please." 

"Oh, Remus had just dropped his handkerchief, and I was going to pick it up for him!”

“And where did he drop his handkerchief, Mrs. Lupin, down his trousers?” she asks point blank, giving you one of her looks, and you stutter. 

“I…” Looking between the two, you decide this is not, in fact, something you were going to take the blame for. “Eh, you see, in the great hall, my husband felt it would be amusing to–" 

"Ahh! Some things are best left unsaid,” Remus smiles with a deep blush, and McGonagall gives you both stern looks, ushering us back inside and up to the teachers’ table.

“Highly inappropriate,” she mutters. As she sits back down though, she regards your silent giggles with a small smile, remembering your teenage selves doing the same. Some things will never change. 

Down at the tables, Ron’s staring at you and Remus suspiciously. He nudges Harry. 

“What'dyou suppose they were doing out there?" 

"I don’t know… debating who gets the bigger classroom?” Harry guesses. 

“Don’t be so thick, mate. Look at her lips, and look at his hair." 

"Both of you stop it,” Hermione crosses her arms, “There’s probably a rational reason for both of those things, something your perverted little minds can’t possibly conceive–”

Just then, you and Remus lean into each other again, and you giggle, a blush spreading as Remus smooths your skirt down under the table. Hermione deflates. 

“Right. Our professors got each other off." 

"Hermione!" 

"Gross!”


	4. Keep It Down (Severus Snape x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut.

You enter the classroom, the sound of potions bubbling growing as you close the door. You can smell the strong one to your immediate left– it smells like sugar. You reach to check it out, and his voice cuts through the silence.

“Don’t touch.”

You put your hands up, and Snape continues to write at his desk, not looking up.

“Place your books on the floor. Undress. Present yourself to me.”

A small smile grows on your face. You know the drill by now. You do as he says, placing your Divination and Charms books at the entrance beside a couple of elixirs, and walk over to the front of the classroom. 

You had left your panties in your dorm, and had worn a skirt under your robes. Sliding your robes off your shoulders, you see Snape look up finally to admire you. You quirk an eyebrow, exposing your breasts to him.

“Feeling a little hot, professor?” you smirk, and he purses his lips. 

“Mm.” Not a yes, not a no, but his darkening eyes tell you all you need to know. You strip, and once you’re naked save for his favourite black lace panties, you lay atop the desks. You always get wet at the thought that you sit  _right here_  in class every day, watching Professor Snape at the front in the same area that you fuck, keeping the little secret of yours.

“I’m waiting,” you say expectantly. He sets his quill down. 

“Like a good girl.” You huff and cross your arms, and after a few more scratches of his quill, he gets up, striding over to you, and takes a good look. Your hair is in a curtain around your head, and your chest is heaving with every breath you take. He eyes your panties, and rolls back his sleeves.

“Have you done as I asked?” he asked, staring back up into your eyes. You nod.

“I haven’t touched myself for a week.”

“Very good. At least we know you don’t lack self control… unlike some.” You pout at his vexed expression– that little second year Potter boy had been on Snape’s nerves since he got back, and you always hated seeing him stressed. 

“Professor.” You draw his attention back by grabbing his hands, and placing them on your hips. His eyes drop over your body, but he ruefully retracts his hands, clapping them once.

“Over the desk.”

You flip around, arching your back, and feel his hand smooth down your back to the edge of your panties, playing with the soft material gently. His fingers lightly tap your ass, pondering what to do with you first… eat you out, finger you, or perhaps use a spell or two to rile you up?

“Sir…” you swallow, “While your touch feels so good, would it be too much to ask if I said I wanted you to…” you bite your lip for show, waiting for him to coax the answer out of you. He gazes at you in interest.

“Go on.”

“…Fuck me with your cock?” you ask as innocently as you can manage, and Snape’s hands stall.

“You want… what, Miss (y/n)?”

He’s making you repeat yourself for kicks, the asshole.

“I want your big, thick cock, sir,” you enunciate, making sure to shock him, “ _Slamming_ me from behind.”

Snape tuts. “What a naughty little girl you are, using that language. What do you suggest I do about this kind of insubordination?”

“Something,” you breathe, wiggling your hips back in impatience, “Anything!”

“Mm. Look at you, whining on about my cock. Were you this needy every night this week… when you couldn’t do anything about i-t?”

“Yesss, every night,” you nod, lips parting sensually. His fingers are tracing your folds horribly slowly, and you resist the urge to sink back on them.

“What a pity you had detention from another class last night, and could not see me to… relieve you.” He takes out his wand, and smirks. “Let’s see what you were really thinking all week.” Swishing his wand, he mutters the legilimency spell. You always feel a little violated when he does this, but a part of you finds it hot beyond words that he can see every single dirty thing you’ve imagined about him. 

He goes into your mind, sees your fantasies of him spanking you, fucking you, kissing you. Breaking the spell, he hums.

“Just as I thought. Filth.”

You bite your lip. “Please, sir… I need you to do all those things.  _Please_. I-I need to come so bad.”

At the tone of your voice, he finally decides to give you what you want, and you hear him push aside his robes, take himself out, and feel him brace a hand on your back. Needing no more stimulation, he parts your legs and runs a hand down your clothed pussy, hooking two fingers in and pulling them down to your knees. You shiver, and he lines himself up, firmly planting his hand down as he thrusts into you. 

You both start up a pace, in, out, slap, moan, until the potions classroom is filled with your noises and the obscene sounds of you two joining roughly.

“Ohhh, professor, ohhh, Severus, right there, that’s amazing–!”

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks in the same calm voice he always has, if not with a little sadistic hitch to it, “I know it is. I saw it in your _filthy_ little head.”

“Ahhh,” you breathe, fingers curling against the wooden desk as you clench around his big cock.

“You’re a slut, you know,” the potions professor murmurs, trailing his fingers up  your back to your neck as he continues to take, “Now, you realize such behaviour cannot simply be forgotten.”

“Yes, sir, spank me, sir!”

Just then, he stops, head sharply tilting up. “Hush,” Snape shushes your moans momentarily, and you gasp slightly as he stops his relentless pace. “I can hear someone coming." 

"But…” you pant, legs quivering and ass pressed back against your teacher’s black robes, “But sir, you’ve put an auditory charm on the door, h-haven’t you?”

“If suspected, such a charm can easily be undone,” Snape muses, eyes narrowed, and slips out of you, patting your hip. “Get under the desk.”

“But sir!”

He whips back to you, black hair falling into his flushed face. “Do as I say, unless you’ve got the invisibility cloak you’d like to produce or would enjoy being promptly ex-pell-ed.”

Reluctantly and with a scowl, you flip your skirt down, and crawl under the desk. Suddenly and just as suspected, there’s a loud knock at the door– Snape purses his lips in irritance, rolls back his sleeves again, and makes sure he looks presentable before striding over.

“Professor Lockhart,” Snape sighs upon welcoming him in, and Gilderoy saunters in past him, loosening his cloak.

“Severus! How are things?”

“Things are fine,” Snape replies dryly, still standing by the door as if to evacuate him back out. You have to stifle a giggle at the potions professor’s expression of annoyance, though you can’t say you’re much happier for the company.

“You know, I heard some curious noises coming by here,” Gilderoy said, tossing a curtain back and inspecting the corners.

“Did you?” Snape folded his arms behind his back, wondering just what in hell gave the man the right to inspect his room. Gilderoy reaches to pick up a bubbling green liquid, which Snape promptly slaps from his hands and puts back with a scowl. You bite your lip, awaiting elaboration from Lockhart on his Sherlockian discovery as you grind down against your palm for some relief. 

“Mm…” The blonde gazes at Snape for a moment before shaking his head. “No noises you’d ever make though, I’m afraid.” He pats him on the arm sympathetically.

“No, surely not,” Snape replies shortly through his teeth, patience already wearing thin. He’s still hard in his pants, and Gilderoy, as usual, is being a bother.

“You know, on the subject of unsavory noises and all, I’d quite like to get up to some with one of my last years.” The blonde grins boyishly, leaning in close as if the potions could overhear them. “She’s gorgeous, eyes like diamonds and a body that could ward off a prison-full of dementors, let me tell you." 

"Oh?” Snape said. He hated participating in this sort of locker room dialogue, but if he indulged Lockhart for a while, he just might leave. 

“Yes, rather. You know her I believe– she’s in your advanced class, Miss (y/l/n)?" 

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you listen closer.

"Really,” Snape deadpans. You hear his fingers drum on the desk top above your head.

“Oh yes. What I wouldn’t give to see what’s under those robes. I can tell she’s madly in love with me, too– I can see it in her gaze as she stares at me in reverie and adoration, she wants me. Not uncommon, but…” He inspects his nails with a great sigh, “It’s just not appropriate I’m afraid.”

“No, it most certainly is not,” Snape returns, though he doesn’t sound as sharp as you would have imagined. You look up, and see the potions professor’s smug little smirk that you love so much. He has you, and Lockhart does not.

Gilderoy nods, too absorbed with inspecting the reflection of his teeth on a vial to notice. “Well Snape, enjoy grading books! I’m off to bed.“

"Pleasant dreams,” Snape says snidely, and when the door has been fully closed, you come back out.

“Gazing at him in reverie and adoration,” you scoff, and gag. Snape smiles a little in amusement, and tugs you back into position, placing his hands firmly on your hips as he flips you around.

“Right, now. From behind, once more.”

You stifle a groan, popping your top button.

“Sir… could you try something with your wand as well?”

Snape gazes at you silently, thoughtfully, and takes out his wand. After a few seconds, you feel him bring it down over your ass with a sharp whistle and crack, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Another, sir.”

“Truly?” he raises a brow, and smacks even harder, causing you to cry out and tears to form.

“S-sir… please.”

“Please… what?” He’s expectant, his “t” enunciated.

“Take me again.”

Really, that’s all the invitation he needs with no one left to disturb you both but perhaps the Bloody Baron.


	5. Mentor (Severus Snape x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst.

You’re a student at Hogwarts. For the first three years, you’re well-liked, but you’re known as a bit of an outsider, a little bit strange. Fourth year, you start getting bullied– mostly by your roommates, but insults and jokes get tossed around the school often as well. You’re a good student overall, but being exceptionally good at Potions, you spend a lot of time in Professor Snape’s classroom. You see him stay late after class is finished quite a lot, and wonder if he stays all night sometimes.

One evening, you decide to stick around and find out– you hide in the classroom, and Snape remains there, lighting a few candles and getting to work on books he has to grade. He eventually senses you’re there, and makes you reveal yourself with his wand out. When he realizes it’s a student, he lowers his wand, but demands to know what you’re doing out of bed… and in his classroom, no less. You ask him, very sheepishly, if you could sleep here in the classroom. He flat out refuses, telling you to get back to your dorm. He’s cold and unforgiving about it too, obviously miffed you’d even think he’d consider that. But then you tell him everything. You tell him about the bullying, the teasing, and how you can’t stand being in the dorm you’re in because of the awful insults.

Now, Snape has experienced bullying like this first hand, and he knows exactly what you’re going through. You can see the conflict on his face… help the student, or pretend not to care? But then, he can still hear their cries of “Hey Snivellus! The cruciatis curse was invented for anyone who has to spend longer than five minutes with you! Haha!”

Softening, he reluctantly agrees to letting you sleep in here with him while he works tonight, but only that night– he would talk to your head of house the next day about switching your dorm placement (if you’re a Slytherin, he’d do it himself). Snape mutters an accio pillows, and you find yourself propped up in the potions classroom in a little nook, listening to Snape scratch away at his marks, turn the pages of his books, and mumble now and again about how thick Weasley’s answers are. The bubbling of the potions is comforting, and strangely, so is the presence of the meanest professor in Hogwarts.

Fifth and sixth year, Snape never forgets your name, and asks you every now and again how “things” are. You know what he’s asking, and you always make sure to let him know if something is bothering you.

After seventh year, you go to Snape’s funeral. There’s only four other people there– Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Headmistress McGonagall comes to pay her respects. You gaze down at the grave, thinking about the one man who, by offering simple, small acts of compassion, changed your life. Without that helping hand, you may have become a death eater because you felt alienated from your fellow witches and wizards. You may have dropped out of school. Worse– you may have gotten expelled.

But Professor Severus Snape was the reason you didn’t.


	6. Yule Ball (Severus Snape x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut.

Your date was hot. Hot enough, at least. The Yule Ball was your chance to get a little action, as all you had been getting lately was wet over your fantasies of a certain professor. Not like he was about to take you to the ball, though.

Marvin Frotwottle, a Slytherin from your year, seventh, had seemed reasonably attractive and particularly not enthusiastic about actually attending the ball– perfect for a little fun out in the carriages.

His breath had already fogged up the windows, and his hands were moving fast. You wished he would slow down just a little– he may be a little young for your taste, but you don’t need him coming in his dress pants.

“Marv,” you whisper, “Go get us some punch.”

“What?” he breathes, glaring at you through the low light of the lanterns outside, “Now?!”

“Now,” you say, shoving him up.

“But it’s cold out there, and…”

You roll your eyes. “You wanted to show me a good time, didn’t you?”

Grumbling to himself, the tall Slytherin lets himself out of the carriage as discretely as possible and ran into the ball.

Left alone, you run a hand through your hair, and assess things. Your body, despite you wishing for a slower pace, was ready for a thorough go, judging by your soaked panties and aching breasts… you only wish someone else would take your date’s place.

You bite your lip a little, and think of Marvin’s head of house. Professor Snape looked extremely dashing tonight, in a form-fitting black suit and his hair a little more styled than usual. The picture in your mind of him was unbuttoning that suit over top of you now, reaching down under your dress to feel how incredibly wet you are…

“Professor,” you breathe, surprised to find your fingers dancing around your heat, barely dipping inside as your dress slides further down your shoulder and piles up around your waist. Were you that desperate for his cock?

You had seen him skulking around the back of ball earlier in the evening, but you haven’t seen him for a while. You wonder where he–

“It’s happening again, like before.”

You duck your head, hoping the fog from the windows will conceal you. That voice sounds familiar, but you can’t immediately place it. They grow closer, and another joins it.

“I see no reason to discuss it.”

It’s Snape. 

You tease your lip further into your mouth, trying not to sigh.

“Lumos!” his deep, velvet voice sounded closer now, and you hear the slam of a carriage door. “Ten points from Hufflepuff. Same from Ravenclaw.”

You cover your mouth. He was searching for students fraternizing out here… he would surely deduce from the foggy windows–

“You are scared!”

“I have nothing to be scared of, Igor. Can you say the same?”

You keep your hand over your mouth, and listen to the sound of footsteps going the other way. It was either Karkaroff, Snape, or both leaving. You let out a breath, wondering what they were talking about. Just as you reach up your skirt to adjust your now-uncomfortable panties, the door swings open.

“Took you long enough, Ma…” you falter as you see Professor Snape staring down at you, arms crossed with one eyebrow raised.

“P-Professor,” you gasp, wishing your arousal would give it a rest for a minute. You tighten your thighs to rub together, and realize your hand is still stuck up there. Snape’s eyes flicker down to where you’ve got your fingers between your legs, and you think you see the tug of a wry smile on the potion master’s face.

“Frotwottle not performing his best, Miss (y/l/n)?” he deadpans, and you swallow.

“I-It’s not what it looks like. Sir.”

“No?” he sets his jaw. “Then why, may I ask, have I discovered you occupying a carriage alone with fogged up windows and a hand up your skirts?”

You let out a shaky breath, finally removing your hand to fix your falling strap. His eyes fall to your collarbone where your fingers brush, gaze trained on the exposed skin there.

“I can explain.”

“Good. Out of the carriage.”

“Wait,” you breathe, and he pauses, frowning a little. A shot of courage runs through you, and you find yourself letting your legs fall back open, letting the strap go as well. Snape’s frown alleviates into something of conflicted intrigue, and you dare to look him in the eye. “I was hoping you could assist me Professor.”

Just at the doors, Marvin comes walking out with two drinks, muttering to himself still, but quickly sees Snape standing at the door to your carriage. Backing away slowly, he turns tail and runs back in– date or no, he’ll let you take the heat from Snape.

The professor looks down at you in incredulity at your confidence.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” he says slowly, and you part your legs even more.

“Sir… you were right. Marvin can’t possibly satisfy me. I need a man.”

“Silence,” he snaps, “You will stop making a fool of yourself this instant and get out of the carriage. Do it, or I will have you expelled before you can say accio vibrator.”

You balk at his words, and he gives a sardonic little purse of his lips. You sigh, and tug up your skirt some more, making one last ditch effort.

“You’ve got to understand… I’ve wanted you since fifth year. I need somebody to keep me in line. Nobody would know, sir… nobody has to.”

Snape narrows his eyes, and looks at you in calculation, obviously weighing what he should do with you. On one hand, he had every reason to take these comments of yours and give you to Dumbledore for expulsion. Then again, they’re hardly believable… Of course, he could simply remove you himself from the carriage, and force you back inside the castle, where he could take fifty points from your house… or he could really teach you a lesson.

“Sir?” you moan, stroking your quivering thighs. He glares down at you, and whips out his wand, stalling your hands temporarily.

“You’re making a spectacle of yourself. Sit up–”

“But Professor!”

“And take the other strap down.”

You stop, and quickly obey. Snape looks around furtively, gets into the carriage, and shuts the door. You waste no time in disrobing him, his buttons going one by one until you’ve got his chest at your fingertips. He takes his precious time with you, tentatively placing a hand on your breast and squeezing. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable and ready, he grips your hair, keeping your head back as he brings two fingers down to enter you.

“Soaking,” he observes with a hum, “Not surprising. Given your whorish behaviour.”

You moan, and he grips your jaw. “Such behaviour warrants serious reprimandation, do I make myself quite clear?” You nod nervously. “As it is… this will have to do.”

He begins to rub your clit, and you arch against him, clutching his shoulders.

“Professor!”

“Keep it down, I’m supposed to be finding hormonal students, not helping them.” He seems to only just realize that’s exactly what he’s doing, and his eyes shut in exasperation.

Your pussy clenches, and Snape notices this, running his fingers down to slowly insert one… two… three.

“Ahh,” you bite on your fist. He knows exactly where to reach for. “You know… everyone thinks you’re a… oh, a virgin… mmmf…”

Snape snorts. “Of course they do.”

“And… are you?” you ask cheekily, and he glares down at you, not impressed.

“Do I appear to be one, Miss (y/l/n)?” he asks, curving his fingers perfectly, and you groan. After a moment, you realize he must be incredibly hard in his pants… and you want to feel him finally.

“I need more,” you urge, and he sighs, undoing his belt and sliding his trousers down.

“I suppose you’ve had enough preparation.”

“Preparation? For w…” you trail off as you see how big he is. “Oh. Mhmm.”

“Take what you need,” Snape growls in your ear, “So we can get back to the ball before someone thinks we’re… up to something.”

You nod, and almost cry out as Snape flips you over and bumps you on top of him. You slowly lower down onto his thick length, moaning all the way.

“You’re so big.”

“And you… you’re so tight,” he groans, gripping your hips, “Such a tight little cunt…” He begins to rock up into you as you hold his arms and roll your hips down, grinding until his dick finds that spot deep inside of your cunt.

“So good…” he murmurs, almost lost in his own world, “So good for me…”

“Professor,” you repeat, rocking down harder. The carriage has begun to rock, but at this point, neither of you care anymore.

Leaning down, you moan his name again, and just as you’re about to declare your climax, the door clicks open with a creak.

“An then I said to him, I said ‘Weasley looks like the Grey Lady’s bastard son t'night in that bloody dress, hah!”

You gasp, and turn to see Seamus and Dean, two fourth year Gryffindors. You quickly lean down and press your lips to Snape’s, so that no one can see him– this gets you quite the bodily reaction from the potions master.

“Ohh, lookee here, Deany!” the Irish student grins, not leaving as you had hopes, “This one’s taken! It’s Fruitwattler and that pretty seventh year… what was her name again? Wait… I just saw Frittenwalten inside! Who’s this one, then? Guess he couldn’t get it up, ehhh?!”

“I am never letting you perform that rum spell again as long as you live,” Dean says tiredly, and drags his drunk boyfriend off, apologizing quickly before shutting the carriage door again.

Snape, breathing heavily, grabs you, pulling you down closer.

“Meddling students…”

“They’re gone.”

“Mmm, I’m close…”

“So am I,” your breath hitches, and you shudder, letting your hair fall down your back as you feel your orgasm wash over you.

“Ah! Severus!”

His eyes widen, and he pushes his hips up fast, groans your name and pulls out, coming on your thigh. You use a spell to clean both of you up.

“Well,” he says, managing to sit up, “This was thoroughly inappropriate.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” you say, blowing a piece of hair out of your face.

“We don’t speak of this,” he says in threat, “Ever.”

“You don’t have to tell me, Professor.” You slowly smirk. “Severus.”

He goes to snap at that, but lets it go. It feels good to hear someone saying his name with such want.

“What were you doing when I found you?” he asks softly, opening the door to the carriage after dressing. You shift, sitting up.

“I really was waiting for Marvin to come back. He went to get drinks, but took his bloody time with it.”

“Hm.” Snape does up the last button, picking up his lantern again with a dramatic sigh. “Well… what is the phrase? You snooze… you lose.” You giggle, and he grips the door. “Right yourself and get back into the dance. Ten points from (y/house).”

“But sir, that’s not fair, you just–!” you protest.

“I am still a teacher, and you were still caught with your legs open on school grounds. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?”

You huff, and suppress your own smile. “Quite.”

Snape nods with a secretive smirk, and whips around. He walks briskly off in the snow, leaving you to watch and smile after him.

Putting your dress back together (in any way you can so that not everyone knows you just fucked someone), your mind wanders back to why Snape had been talking to Karkaroff earlier in the first place, and what they had been discussing so secretively. Perhaps they were discussing the tournament? No, it was more serious than that.

Oh, well. That was none of your business, and not something to worry over on a night like tonight– you guess dreams really do come true on Christmas Eve.


	7. Yule Ball Part II (Severus Snape x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut.

"It was a successful night," Dumbledore declares with a warm smile, thinking back to the Yule Ball that had been a couple months prior.

"It certainly was an improvement over last year's disaster," McGonagall nods, "Not one Gryffindor student stepped poorly during the dance."

"Nor did my Slytherins," Snape adds, and everyone turns their head to look at the head of house.

"Severus, where exactly were you chaperoning?" Sprout asks, and Snape frowns.

"Outside... in the courtyards."

"Ah yes," Dumbledore chuckles, "With those carriages out there, nights such as these are certainly taken advantage of by the students."

"I do not think it was the night alone that was taken advantage of," Karkaroff smirks, and Snape snaps his head up to his old acquaintance.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Yes, what is it supposed to mean, Igor?" Minerva asks, placing a hand over her chest, "You can't be suggesting what I think you are." Snape implores him to go on with a glare so withering it could sour pumpkin juice.

"All I am saying, is I was walking with you one minute and then you simply vanished."

"Well perhaps I was refreshing myself with some of that delightful punch," Snape replies in sarcasm, and nearly everyone present understands it as such.

"But you just disappeared!" Igor presses on, "No tracks inside, Severus!"

"Our conversation was finished," Snape says slowly.

"Not if you ask me."

"No one is asking you, Igor," Snape growls.

"I am very much asking him, Severus!" Minerva blurts, "Though I cannot fathom what would make him say such a thing, it's quite plain to me that you would never-- ever-- do anything in the nature of what he is suggesting."

"Hmm," Igor mutters simply, and crossed his arms.

"Perhaps it is a moot point, but may I inquire," Dumbledore lifts a finger, munching on a sweet, "As to what you were conversing about in the first place that night, Mr. Karkaroff?"

Igor shuts right up at this, and Snape has to smirk right back at the retired death eater. He never could keep his mouth shut.

 

Sufficiently embittered after the surprise morning inquisition, Snape didn't know if he was quite in the mood to witness Potter slip through death's fingers again this afternoon, in the second thrilling Triwizard challenge. How had Igor figured that out? He was always so careful, and if anyone (of significance, that is) found out, about... that, his carefully crafted reputation was at stake. He was distracted as well by the memory of that night, as much as he did not want to be. Your eyes, staring at him as if he was the most beautiful man in the world... your hands on him, your breath on his skin, your wetness, slicking his--

No. It was once, never again. You made that clear Severus. His feelings toiled inside of him, conflicted as always. He was angry with himself, angry at you with no real reason to be, and angry at this Merlin damn Triwizard Tournament for mandating a bloody Yule Ball.

"Afternoon, Professor Snape," a couple of passing third years chime, and he resists the urge to whack them upside the head.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" he grumbles.

"No sir! We're on our way to the games!" the other one says happily, and Snape scowls.

"Then why are you talking to me?"

They hurry off, and as Snape finally resigns himself to the fact that he has to attend these silly games, he hears a noise beside him. Glancing over, he notices a door to the broom cupboard. The rats in this school were positively enormous, it was ridiculous. Snape takes out his wand, and swings the door open...

 

Your cheeks heat up in mortification. There you are, half naked in a broom cupboard, with none other than the man you couldn't keep your mind off of for the past two months. It had been bad enough trying to forget what happened between you two during class, which you had with him three times a bloody week. You were practically climbing the walls with lust for him, but it was clear he didn't want anything to do with you after fucking you the night of the Yule Ball.

You grimace, and expect him to sneer-- he just sighs.

"Look who I have found, once again, in a tight space with your knickers at your knees."

"I swear sir, it's for a good reason this time," you swallow, and tug your skirt up. "I-I was just changing into some lighter clothes so I could go watch the game without dirtying my school robes!"

Snape raises an eyebrow. "Were you?"

You nod, your body moving with the motion and therefore jiggling what you had on display-- your breasts in a lacy black bra.

"Any lighter than that, you would have been expelled," Snape deadpans, and you quickly grab for your robes.

"I wasn't-- I'm not--" you scoff, and he crosses his arms.

"Of course it had to be you. Why couldn't I have found Longbottom in here? At least I wouldn't hesitate to give him detention."

 As you search for words, his eyes roam up and down your body, taking it in. He has to be honest with himself-- he had missed this. Almost every night, your moans and shrieks of his name had haunted his dreams and bewitched his mind with filth before going to bed, and many a night had he been... physically compromised because of it. It didn't help, of course, that you were in his class three times a week.

"Sir?" you ask, and it comes out a little more coy than you had intended.

His gaze lingers. "What... exactly gave you the bright idea, Miss (y/l/n), to change in a broom closet?"

"My dormitory was too far," you shrug, biting your lip. You wish your legs would stop rubbing together.

"Imagine... if I had caught you completely without underclothes?" Snape enunciated, eyes unabashedly admiring your breasts.

"Mm," you nod, eyelids drooping, "Imagine..."

Snape takes a breath, and shakes his head. "Why is it that my resolve is so incredibly thin when I'm around you?" He grabs the door and slams you both in the broom closet. It's dark, and your hands are needy, tugging at his dark robes in an effort to rip them off. He stills your hands, moving them instead to his belt, and you find each other's lips.

Snape goes for his wand to mutter a Lumos, but you catch him.

"Wait... it's more fun in the dark," you giggle, "More dangerous this way."

Snape rolls his eyes, and you snake your arms around his waist. He puts his hands beneath your ass, and lifts you swiftly against the wall as you let out a breathy moan. His lips trail up your neck, and then to your ear.

"Is this what you wanted?" his deep, velvety voice groans, "All month, have you been dreaming about my hands on you like this, my hard cock inside you, pounding you like the filthy little slut that you are, finally giving you the release you need?"

"Professor," you gasp.

"I know you can do better than that."

You smirk at him, and whisper in his ear: "Severus, please."

He moans, and positions at your entrance, pushing in and burying himself deep. You let out a startled sigh as he leaves you little to no time to adjust to his size, and starts to thrust hard, rolling your breasts in his big hands.

"Look at you, falling to pieces for me," he breathes, pushing in again, "Begging for more..."

"Please, oh Merlin..." you shout, and he cups a hand over your mouth.

"Not so loud... there are wandering students down every corridor."

"Like me?" you ask playfully, and bite his lip. He holds you up higher for that, pounding in at a new angle that makes your toes curl behind his back.

"Fuck, you're amazing," you whisper, and he tuts.

"Such deplorable language from you. I should have expected nothing less though, when you sounded like a Hogsmeade barmaid bouncing on my cock Christmas Eve."

"Ohhh," you breathe, clutching his robes tightly.

"If you're going to come..." he snaps, "Do it."

"Ah!" your pussy clenches around him, and he lets out a long groan as he sets you down. You grab him, stroking him to completion in your hand, and the two of you stand there, heavy breathing, for what could have been five minutes.

"I think," you pant, pressing your forehead up to his, "We've now established... that it's impossible... to ignore one another."

"Difficult, at least," Snape protests weakly, hands laid to rest on your hips.

"So why quit?" you start to smile, and Snape's eyes meet yours.

"You are my student."

"And you are my professor, thank you so much, Sir Obvious, I hadn't run that through my thick mind," you cross your arms, and he gives a disapproving hum at your cheeky retort.

"If you think you can continue to take that tone with me, you're very wrong, (y/n). Just because I am..." he chooses his words carefully, "Enjoying your company outside of class, does not mean you will see me as anything other than a professor."

"Yes sir," you nod, licking your lips, and he purses his lips.

"Onto the tournament now, then?"

"Mm," you nod in affirmation, smoothing out his robes, "Diggory for the win!"

"I've stopped cheering any of them on, they're lucky if they escape this tournament in one piece," Snape sighs. Once you've both righted yourself with some quick magic, the tall Slytherin head of house offers a reluctant arm, and opens the broom cupboard door, looking around.

"Shall I escort you to the grounds?"

"You shall indeed," you grin, and take his arm.


	8. Chance Meeting (Remus Lupin x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut.

You stand on the bridge overlooking the river by Hogwarts, wishing you were down enjoying Hogsmeade with everyone else. You’d always wanted to visit the little town, but even in your seventh year now, you hadn’t had the chance.

“Miss the pilgrimage?” a teasing voice asks behind you, and you turn. Professor Lupin… your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who was more handsome than half of the boys in your year. You brush your hair aside over your robes, snuggling deeper into your scarf.

“Professor.” He nods. “No, I’m afraid I couldn’t go. Nobody to sign for me.”

“Really,” Remus remarks, coming to stand next to you. His eyes flicker over you, and he sighs. “No… guardians?”

“Well– it’s complicated. It wasn’t that I couldn’t get it signed, it was that my guardians wouldn’t sign. Messy ordeal that was, trying to explain what it was for.”

“Your parents must know you’re a witch, surely,” Remus says slowly.

“Oh, they know, yes. My situation at home is complicated.” You wave a hand. “Anyway, it’s fine. I’ll find time to go to Hogsmeade at some point… maybe when the year is over.”

“That’s right. You’re in your seventh year, am I correct?”

“Yes,” you murmur, and turn to him. “I wish I could have had more time for classes with you, Professor Lupin. The truth is, I…” you look down. “I’ve developed something of an admiration for you.”

“Yes, I’ve caught you staring once or twice,” Remus smiles kindly, patting your hand, “But it happens to the best of us, my dear. I had a teacher I greatly idolized when I was in school here.”

“Were they… smart?”

“Oh, very.”

“Attractive?” you venture, hiking up your skirt a little. Remus looks down, and blinks, lips parting.

“I… fear I forgot something back in the castle, I’ve must–”

“Professor,” you let your skirt fall, taking his wrist, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things uncomfortable for you.”

He looks down at your leg again, swallowing. “I know.” He settles back into his leaning position. He rubs a hand through his messy hair, and sighs. “Oh, feelings are terribly untidy things, aren’t they?”

“They are,” you agree, “You see, my admiration for you goes beyond respect for your teaching. I see you up there, sir, and all I can think about is you…” You look up at him, doe eyes blinking.  _He hasn’t stopped you yet, but you don’t know if you should continue. You’d already apologized…_

Oh, but he was so close to you right now, mere inches, and self control was not an option anymore.

“…You, having your way with me.” His shocked expression gives you more confidence to finish your confession. “When you saw me staring at you, could you see my wand under my desk, rubbing just barely up my skirt as I thought of you?”

“I think it would be best if I left you now,” Remus repeats gently, turning and beginning to walk away, but you put a hand on his shoulder. At the contact, he turns back, and you look down.

“Sir… stay with me. Please. I can’t help it– it’s all I think about.”

You’re on the verge of tears, and his face softens. Looking down at you, he places both hands on your shoulders.

“You will always find you are welcome in my classroom, Miss (y/l/n). You must know that.”

You look up into his amber eyes, and press your lips to his. His eyes close, and he takes your face in his hands, moaning slightly. You moan as well, feeling him sweep your tongue inter your mouth. You smile through the kiss. You’re snogging a teacher… and he’s loving it.

Soon, he breaks off, and breathes out. “This is… not alright, this is incredibly inappropriate, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It was perfectly fine,” you say, “I’m an adult.”

“But you’re still my student. I can’t have relations with a student, it would not be fair to you. Oh, what possessed me to do such a thing? Take advantage of you like that…”

“You’re not,” you affirm, taking both of his hands, “Professor Lupin. I need you.” He looks at your for a second, then he shakes his head.

“You do not need me,” he tells you softly, “I am twice your age, and you will regret it if we do what you are suggesting.”

“Sir,” you moan, reaching to tug your scarf off. His eyes fall down to your cleavage, and suddenly, he’s tongue tied. “ _Please_.”

The repetition of the word snaps something inside of him, and he finally resigns himself to picking you up, holding you against the beam of the bridge. Pressing your lips together again, you smile as Remus reaches up your skirt, brushing your panties aside to feel how wet you are for him.

He quickly undoes his trousers, and you part your legs for him even more, your cunt already throbbing for him. You nearly moan as you see how big he is, and scoot your hips further forward, wrapping your legs around him. He holds you against the beam as he checks both ways to make sure no one is coming or can see. Then you put your arm around his neck and draw him down to your lips, capturing his and giving him the longest, sweetest kiss you’d ever given anyone. He pulls away breathless, and you blink up innocently.

“Sir… please fuck me.”

He lets out a breath, and thrusts his hips forward, unable to resist your pheromones. His belt jangles as he thrusts in again, your mouth dropping as he stretches you perfectly.

“Professor!” you moan, rocking your hips down as he begins to move faster.

“I’m… afraid I’m close,” he announces, almost in embarrassment, and you smile, holding onto him as you rock harder down, squeezing your pussy around his big, hard cock.

“You’re so handsome, sir,” you whisper, tilting your head back in a loud groan.

“You’re gorgeous, my dear,” he mutters, holding your neck so that you don’t fall back, and suddenly, Remus thrusts perfectly, catching your g-spot and sending your orgasm burning through you.

“Ahhh, Professor Lupin!” you cry out, arching your back, and he curses, stalling as he cums inside of your clenching pussy.

When both of you have finished, Professor Lupin pulls out, and takes out a handkerchief, blushing.

“Sorry for the mess…” he says, attempting to clean your thighs, and you bite your lip.

“If you keep your hands there, I might just need another fuck.”

He quickly looks at you, unable to stop blushing. “I… don’t quite know what to do about this,” he admits.

“A change of trousers may be–”

“You know what I mean, Miss (y/l/n),” he sighs, “You see… this violates every one of the rules in my code of ethics, when it comes to teaching. I’ve taken advantage of you in a moment of quiet reflection, and–”

“Remus,” you cut in, “There’s nothing you’ve done that I didn’t want.”

He hugs his cloak tighter to him, keeping the chill out. “Truly?” You nod, and smile as he takes your hand. “Then let’s be on our way back to the castle now, my dear, where it’s warm. Perhaps I can have the kitchen elves whip you up some butterbeer, to make up for what you would have had in town. They know my name in the Hogwarts kitchens, oh, very well from when I attended school here.”

You follow him with a smile. This was far better than an excursion to Hogsmeade.


	9. After Dark (Lucius Malfoy x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff?

You turn left down Knockturn Alley, and look behind you, checking around before passing the pointed sign. You had a few things to pick up in this part of town, and you really didn’t need any eyes prying into your business.

You carry your bag of galleons in hand, black dress sweeping the cobble. It’s early evening, just as the sun is going behind the cloud… the perfect time to shop here. It was no secret you were a part of one of the richest, oldest families in the Wizarding World… one of.

You begin to hear a step clip, step clop noise behind you, and smirk slightly. It was the insufferable man you had a soft spot for back in school.

“Are you in the habit of following ladies after dark now, Mister Malfoy?”

The noise stops, and you hear sputtering. You turn with a sly smile, and see the poised man lift his chin, black cloak swishing behind him.

“Miss (y/l/n),” he says, narrowing his icy eyes, “I had no idea I’d see you here, on your way to Borgin and Burke.” He gives a cordial smile, raising an eyebrow. You raise one right back.

“No?”

“No,” he muses decidedly, and clears his throat at some passing wizards who were staring. He steps in closer, looking you up and down. “What are you doing out here alone so late at night?”

“I know my way around,” you tell him, taken a little off guard by his proximity.

“–further… it is a shame nobody is accompanying you,” he ignores your comment, and you huff.

“Must I be accompanied?”

He shifts uncomfortably, looking around. “I know how gifted a dark witch you are, (y/n)…” He looks around conspiratorially, lowering his voice, “We all knew that, back in the time of the Dark Lord… and Slytherin house had no better dueler.” He straightened up. “But even so, this place is littered with the dregs and scum of the wizarding world.”

“So your intentions are purely gentlemanly then,” you tease, and he ruffles, sticking his nose up.

“Of course.”

“Hm,” you smile, and he goes a little weak, lust flashing in his eyes.

“Should you ever happen… that is to say, if you are ever in need of,” he chooses his words carefully, confidently deciding on some, “Of an escort. Or simply someone to keep you company this late at night…” he gives a haughty smirk. “I am right here for the calling.”

With that, he gives a tap of his cane, and walks away, leaving you to bite your lip and wish you had accepted the handsome man’s offer.


	10. Unwrap Me (Sirius Black x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas smut ;)

You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he opens the box. Using a shrinking spell, you had fit yourself into a cute little burgundy Christmas gift box, which you had Kreacher set well in front of the Christmas tree for your boyfriend to find.

Home for the holidays, you always felt like you could be yourself again. Being a student and dating a much older man, the age of your professors, was not seen as typical or terribly orthodox at Hogwarts, so being able to spend Christmas with Sirius at Grimmauld Place was special time the two of you shared.

Today, Christmas morning, you planned to give him the gift of his life– one he would both appreciate, and never forget. You finally hear him groan, and rise from bed. He thumps around, and you wait quietly, excitedly.

Sirius turns over in bed, blinking awake when he doesn’t feel you. He runs a hand through his unruly curls, and immediately smirks.

 

“And what… Christmas game is my sweet, innocent girlfriend playing on me this morning?” he asks aloud, continuing to smirk as he gets up. He checks under the bed. “Under here? Perhaps in the bathroom?” He shrugs, beginning to brush his teeth. “I see you’re making me work for it, darling.”

He finishes washing his face, pretending to take his time for effect, then finally saunters out into the living room, chest open in his velvet bathrobe. Real surprise hits him as he sees the box.

“Hello… what’s this?” he murmurs, kneeling down to read the tag. “For my loving dearest… Lord Black.” He smirks again. “I must say (y/n), wherever you are, I do like the title. Makes me sounds more important than Lucius Malfoy,” he snorts, and begins to undo the ribbons on the gift. When he finally takes off the lid, a bright flash emitts, and you turn up in front of him, kneeling with little gift bows over your nipples and between your legs.

“Galloping Gargoyles, what a sight,” he remarks, “Looks like I’ve been a damn good boy this year.” He admires you for a good long time.

“Well?” you raise an eyebrow. “Are you gonna do something with your present, or just stare at it all day?”

He chuckles, and takes out his wand. You stop him.

“Ah ah ah. Hands only. All over me.”

He drops the wand, and does as you say, standing you up and spinning you around, plucking the bow from your left breast to massage it in his hand. You moan, leaning back into him, and he suckles your neck, spinning you around once more to wrap his mouth around the other bow, taking it off and sucking your right nipple into his mouth. Your head falls back, and he finally descends to your legs, holding your thighs as he uses his teeth on this box, spitting it out and delving his tongue over your clit. You jolt forward, hand scrambling for his hair, and rock down with gentle moans as he parts your legs even more, slipping his tongue between your folds and up into your pussy.

“S… Sirius…” you pant, legs quivering, and he grabs handfuls of your ass, squeezing it as he continues to fuck you with his tongue. You feel yourself get closer and closer, and you shout his name as his nose rubs against your clit, tongue licking you perfectly. You come hard as he holds you to his mouth, and he makes sure to clean you all up, groaning softly the whole time.

“Well, I don’t know if I’ll have room for Christmas dinner after that–” he begins to say, but you smack him lightly, rolling down to tackle him onto the carpet in front of the fire. He grins up at you, and you gaze down his body, see how his chest is exposed through the robe and everything else is barely hidden as well– his tendency to expose that chest always drives you wild, and this morning is no exception. He lays back on his forearms.

“Your turn, darling. Unwrap me.”

You tear at his robe, and he chuckles at your haste as you finally expose his hard cock, lying against his stomach. You lean down, giving it a few licks, and he moans, watching as you crawl back up to straddle him.

“Is this what you wanted for Christmas, Sirius?” you ask playfully, lifting up to seat yourself on his dick, and he puts his hands to rest on your hips, helping you bury his cock deep inside of you.

“Number one on my list,” he says, winking, and watches where you two are joined. You lift up and slam down, riding him hard into the ground, and he begins to gasp and whisper your name. As you’re getting close, he finally growls, and the Padfoot inside him takes over, flipping you over and just pounding you from over top. You moan like a slut, begging for more, harder, harder Sirius, and he gives it to you, hair falling forward as he fucks you rough.

Holding onto him, you bite down into his shoulder as you start to come for a second time, and he mumbles your name as he too hits his climax. Both of you relax, spent, and cuddle on the floor there together.

“You keep me young. Do you know I’d be nothing without you?” Sirius asks you somberly, thumb stroking your chin. You hold his hand to your face.

“Not true. You’re a great, kind man, with a godson who loves you.”

“Hm. Not so great after Azkaban.”

“Especially after Azkaban. They weren’t able to break your spirits, were they?” You lean down. “Besides, I quite like you all haggard and grizzly like this.”

“You didn’t know me in school,” he scoffs, “I was quite the charmer.”

“Even more so than now?” you huff, “However did Hogwarts contain the insatiable libido of Sirius Black?”

You both giggle, and kiss again.

“Does m'lord require my assistance opening the box—”

“GET OUT, KREACHER!” you both scream, and the House Elf scowls, backing away.

“Kreacher does not approve of such nasty practices, nasty, nasty, nasty…” Sirius sighs as the elf walks off into the dark.

“Care to engage in some more nasty practices after a glass of hot butterbeer, love?” he asks, pecking you on the cheek. You boop his nose.

“You know it, Lord Black.”


	11. Floating Candles (Remus Lupin x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas fluff <3

You sit alone at the dining table in the Great Hall, listening to the charmed Christmas carols drifting from their magical sources as candles float above you like enchanted stars. It’s a beautiful setting, and while you’re not technically supposed to be in here outside of dining hours, you had sneaked in to enjoy the quiet ambience, free of any other well meaning, rowdy students excitedly preparing for the approaching holidays. It was times like these that made you miss home, and it hurt your heart even more knowing you couldn’t return to visit over the break this year. But Hogwarts was your home, more so than your real one now, and Christmas here on the castle grounds always put you in the spirit.

This morning, Professor Sprout had taught you all how to grow magical mistletoe (the dangerous kind, laced with Amorentia) and Harry and Ron had ended up kissing during a demonstration. That ended as you would expect– with a lot of chuckles, applause, and lip scrubbing. In potions, Snape had finally conceded to the students begging him to teach the bottomless hot butterbeer spell, which was really quite simple, at the end of the day.

Now full of butterbeer and with love on the mind, you sit.

Defense Against The Dark Arts today had been the only slightly somber class, the day before holidays. Professor Lupin didn’t seem right… he seemed almost melancholy, and it made you wonder why. You always thought a lot about the DADA professor; his hands, his scarred face, his little lip twitch, his passion, his playful mischeif. You had a bit of a crush on him. If only you could catch him staring at you as often as you stare at him. You use your wand to bring a couple of the snowflakes from above down lower, watching them fall in front of you and dissolve on your hand, turning to icy ash.

Suddenly, someone comes into the room, spotting you.

“(y/n)?”

You set your wand down, and look over to see Remus. He takes a seat beside you on the bench, facing away from the table.

“Shouldn’t you be… off running about with your house mates? Burying gifts and such, casting charms on one another’s Christmas trees? Or, if you’re the Weasley twins, widdling some poor wizard’s tree into a knockoff Nimbus 2000?”

You smile, ducking your head.

“I felt like being alone today, professor.”

He goes to get up. “Ah. I apologize if I’m intruding–”

You reach for his arm and take it, then realize the contact, blushing and letting go. “No. You’re lovely company.”

He chuckles, relaxing back into his seat. “You’re not obligated to say so just because I am a teacher. I can be a frightful bore sometimes. See, when I was a student, I would have given anything to tell Binns he bored me half to death.”

“No, no. I could never imagine you boring me,” you smile, “You’ve got the most wonderful stories I’ve ever heard anyone tell.”

It’s his turn to blush. “I thank you for stroking my ego, Miss (y/l/n).” He sighs contentedly, watching the candles above you float. “It is beautiful, is it not?”

“Very,” you nod, “I’ve never felt more at home.”

He stares at you as you look up, and bites his lip. “That’s exactly how I felt, when I was in school. Daresay, I still do.”

You move a little closer to him along the bench, and gaze down.

“Professor Lupin?” you ask softly.

He looks at you, his brown eyes gentle. “My dear?”

You place your hand over his. “Do you have anyone to go home to over Christmas?”

He takes your hand in his, and holds it.

“I don’t need anyone. I’ve learned that over many years of my life, you see.”

You bite your lip, look around, and slowly tilt your head up toward him. He looks a bit surprised, but doesn’t move away as you seal your lips to his, dragging your thumb across his palm. As you part, you keep only a few inches between the two of you, lips barely grazing.

“Everybody needs someone.”

He tilts your chin up, and kisses you again, eyes closing this time as he holds you to him for a moment. You two part, both utterly enamored.

The portrait of Godric Gryffindor down the way begins to applaud, and Rowena Ravenclaw behind you hushes him. Helga Hufflepuff is sniffling across from you and Salazar Slytherin is making a face. You blush, and Lupin scowls at the paintings.

“Not a word.”

You turn to him, still smiling. “Happy Christmas, Professor Lupin.” He leans over to bump his shoulder against yours.

“Happy, happy Christmas… my dear Miss (y/l/n).”


End file.
